What Happens at St Mungo's
by Aparecium88
Summary: Four years after the War, Hermione has finally become a Junior Healer at St. Mungo's.  But why has Draco Malfoy shown up in the Children's Ward wearing Apprentice Healer Robes?  And why is his presence causing her to have heart palpitations? DMHG
1. Chapter One

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not claim ownership over any of the characters, or any part of the Harry Potter World created by J.K. Rowling._

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**CHAPTER ONE**

Hermione Granger heaved a sigh and dropped her bag onto the floor with a dull thud. Leaning heavily against the door to close it, she surveyed the less-than-tidy state of her galley kitchen. Dirty dished were stacked high in the sink, a crusty fry pan from last night's dinner perched precariously from the edge of the stove, and various plastic and cardboard wrappers littered the countertop.

With another deep breath, the 22-year old hung her winter cloak on the hook by the door, kicked off her shoes, and flicked her wand towards to filthy pan on the stove.

"_Evanesco_," she said, and watched as the greasy remains of her meal vanished.

"_Aguamenti_," and a jet of water shot from her wand and filled the sink.

With a few more swishes and flicks, Hermione charmed her sponge and dish towel to begin soaping and drying, and the dishes began whizzing across the kitchen into their cupboard, neatly stacked.

Catching a glass as it flew past her, Hermione opened her refrigerator and poured herself a glass of pomegranate juice, peering into the cluttered depths of her freezer. Pulling out a frozen packet of curry, she unwrapped it and stuck it into her microwave.

Stepping through the kitchen, Hermione emerged into the main room of her flat and looked around fondly.

Home. Although she was hardly ever there, Hermione dearly loved her little home in the heart of Notting Hill. She had found the flat, a cramped maze of dirty little rooms, two years ago. It was one of the few homes she had looked at that both was (surprisingly) affordable and had any character.

She had spent a laughter-filled fortnight with Harry and Ron, blasting down walls and stripping paint, and the resulting product was a cozy one-bedroom flat. She had turned the front of the apartment from a series of cramped rooms to a single large room, with a walled off kitchen.

At the back of the space, Hermione had installed a deep soaking tub in the bathroom and magically enlarged the closet of her tiny bedroom.

Her cozy front room was her favorite place in the world, a peaceful place to retreat from her stressful life. A wall of oversized windows draped with gauzy beige curtains made the space feel light, airy, and private. Heavy oak bookcases lined two of the walls, and a suede sectional couch created a seating area in front of the fireplace, which Hermione had taken pains to get hooked up to the Floo Network.

A little-used television was mounted above the fireplace, whose mantel was covered in photographs that grinned cheerfully at her. A large portrait of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, snapped at the Quidditch World Cup during their fourth year at Hogwarts, stood at the front of the collection, and a grinning Hermione stuck her tongue out at her older self.

Hermione had purchased the flat as a getaway from the Wizarding World. She, Harry and Ron had quickly learned that being known for defeating Voldemort came at the cost of a loss of privacy, and for this reason, Hermione was more than happy to take up residence in Muggle London.

Indeed, the only overtly magical things about Hermione's home were the pictures that laughed happily on the mantle – easily frozen with a wave of her wand whenever a Muggle neighbor came to call.

The shrill beeping of the microwave drew Hermione out of her reverie, and she padded into the kitchen. Dumping the plastic bin of curry onto a plate and grabbing a fork, she curled up on the couch and lit a fire, propping her aching feet up on a bolster.

She chewed absentmindedly, thinking over the day. She was almost positive that she had added too much cassia root to her Pepperup Potion that morning, as several patients had complained that their ears had steamed until nearly teatime.

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The summer after the Battle of Hogwarts had been chaotic. The Wizarding World was eager to move on from the terror that had engulfed them for the past year, and while those who had fought struggled to grieve and move on, their lives rapidly progressed towards a new normalcy. By the end of that first summer, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry once again stood tall over the ancient trees of the Forbidden Forest.

In an effort to contain the effects of the Battle of Hogwarts on students, the Ministry had given 7th year students the option to take their cancelled N.E.W.T.s at the end of the summer, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione had completed their exams with their classmates that August, allowing them to begin their respective careers that fall. Harry had chosen to Apprentice as an Auror, while Ron had entered business with George at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes.

For the past four years, Hermione had been working at St. Mungo's. Last year, she had completed her apprenticeship and was now a full-fledged Junior Healer. She worked in the Children's Ward, and had recently began studying to specialize in Accidental Magical Injuries, a common problem among young witches and wizards whose magical powers are just beginning to manifest.

Between her long shifts in the ward, and evening classes, Hermione had little time to sleep, much less keep up with her social life. Still, she, Harry, and Ron met up for drinks at least once a week, and she had grown close to Ginny over the past few years.

And, of course, there was Mandy. Mandy Brocklehurst, a former Ravenclaw, had become her closest friend during their shared, arduous Apprenticeship at St. Mungo's.

During the first weeks of her Apprenticeship, Hermione had felt desperately alone, especially during the late evening and early morning hours of her shift. It was too easy to get caught up in thoughts of the past while she paced the darkened corridors of the hospital, listening to the often-strained breathing of the patients.

Nearly all of the other apprentices were several years older than she, as the entrance exam to become a Healer was notoriously difficult. Beyond achieving "Exceeds Expectations" on each of the required N.E.W.T.s, Apprentice Healers were required to undergo an additional examination. Each year, three to five applicants with the highest scores were accepted into the program.

Most aspiring Healers would continue their studies abroad for a couple of years before attempting the exam. However, Hermione and Mandy had both managed to pass the exam directly out of school, which, while earning them quite a reputation among the Head Healers, did little to endear them to their fellow Apprentices.

She and Mandy bonded one night over a nearly disastrous attempt to regrow a young boy's leg bones, and had been fast friends ever since.

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Hermione nearly dropped her plate when a face popped into her fireplace.

"Hermione! Good, you're home!" exclaimed the figure in the fire.

Hermione put a hand to her chest, feeling her heart race. "Ginny, you nearly scared me to death. I wasn't expecting a Floo tonight!"

Ginny grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I just HAD to talk to you. You haven't been home all week, and I would have owled, but I figured that I'd be more likely to catch you if I just popped over through the Floo."

"It's alright, I know I've been hard to reach lately. What's on your mind?"

Ginny's flame-colored face flushed excitedly. "It's not so much on my mind as…uh…can I come over?"

Hermione quirked her head at her friend, but nodded. Ginny was never at a loss for words. Still, she stood up and away from the fireplace, and moments later, Ginny appeared in Hermione's flat with a small poof of soot.

"What's going on? Is everything okay?" Hermione asked.

Smiling goofily, Ginny held out her hand. Her left hand.

Something small on Ginny's finger caught the light and flashed brilliantly.

Hermione felt her eyebrows raise and her lips purse before she could stop them, and quickly tried to arrange her features into something resembling excitement. Unfortunately, as she seemed to have lost temporary control of her facial musculature, the only affect of this attempt was an odd sort of grimace.

Ginny sighed with exasperation. "Hermione, come on, at least pretend you're excited. I'm getting MARRIED!"

Hermione's brain finally began to function, and she snapped into friend mode.

"Oh Ginny, it's beautiful! Let me see more closely! How did he propose?" she gushed with a smile that she couldn't quite make reach her eyes.

Ginny rolled her eyes good-naturedly at her friend. "That's better. Well, he had the family over to Grimmauld Place for dinner and after we ate, we were all sitting in the drawing room having drinks, and remembering all the summers Harry spent with us over the years."

"Mum commented on how he was practically a part of the family, and then Harry got a really serious look on his face, and said that he considered us to be his family, and would it be alright with Dad if he made it official. Then, I dunno, he got down on one knee, and…" Ginny trailed off with a giggle.

Hermione coached her face into another slightly-too-big grin and said "How wonderful! Ginny, I am so thrilled for you."

Ginny looked into her friend's eyes and laughed. "No you aren't, I know you think we're way too young to be married."

Smiling ruefully, Hermione admitted, "Well…yes, I do. I mean, you are only 21 years old. It just seems…"

"…A bit rushed?" Ginny said, imitating Hermione's voice in a singsong tone. "Hermione, we've been together for ages, and nothing is going to change how we feel. Besides, when Harry's mum was my age, she already had Harry!"

"I know, I know," Hermione said, holding her hands up in mock defeat. "I guess that I just don't feel old enough to get married, so I can't imagine how you lot can be. I am really happy for you, you know. Just a little shell-shocked."

Ginny pulled Hermione into a hug and kissed her firmly on the cheek.

"I know you are, and I know you'll take some time to adjust. That's why I told you tonight. We'll be announcing the engagement this weekend; Mum and Dad are throwing a party on Saturday evening. You'll be there, right?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Hermione said with an honest smile.

"Good, now take a look at my ring and tell me what a lucky girl I am" Ginny said.

Hermione grasped her friend's hand and looked closer at her third finger. A slender platinum band encircled Ginny's ring finger. Set into a fragile, elegant base, a single square cut diamond flashed merrily in the flickering firelight.

"It really is gorgeous – you're lucky Harry has such good taste," Hermione said.

Ginny smiled tenderly down at her hand, moving it from side to side slightly. Looking up, their eyes met in a look of understanding and a little sadness, and Ginny replied, "I'm just lucky to have Harry."

Ginny seemed about to say else when Hermione's grandfather clock began to chime.

"Nine o'clock! I've got to get back, Mum needs me to help her with invitations for this weekend and she'll kill me if we don't get them out by morning!" Ginny said, turning back towards the fireplace.

"Alright, I'll see you this weekend then?" Hermione said.

"This weekend!" Ginny confirmed.

She dug around in her pocket for a handful of Floo powder, and tossed it into the flames.

"And Hermione?" She said over her shoulder, "you're my maid of honor!"

As Hermione opened her mouth to protest, Ginny shouted "The Burrow!" and disappeared into the flames.

Hermione sunk to her couch, the remains of her dinner forgotten beside her, and stared into the flames.

Harry and Ginny getting married. It all seemed so ridiculously…adult. Smiling ruefully, she reminded herself that it just as well could have been Ron and her, if she hadn't always put her career first.

Hermione and Ron had dated all through her Apprenticeship, promising each other that any rough spots in their relationship were due to Hermione's irregular hours, and that things would become easier once she was a full-fledged Healer with a regular schedule.

However, Hermione received her Healer's robes, and began to work a regular shift, and still nothing it seemed to improve. It wasn't that they fought constantly, but their relationship still felt flat and strained, no matter how many romantic dinners they cooked for each other. It was as if a black hole had opened up between them, sucking away at the happiness they had once felt together.

Ron's solution to their problems was to get married and fill the void with children. Hermione's solution was to return to her studies.

Ron had been furious the evening that she announced that she wanted to train to specialize in Accidental Magical Injuries. To him, it seemed that Hermione was pushing him away. Honestly, Hermione couldn't say what her motivation was, but something had cracked between them that night.

Their parting came slowly; it was as though one morning they had each woken up in their respective beds and realized they were no longer a couple. Over the past year, each had seen other people, and any residual awkwardness had long since disappeared. Although their relationship could never be what it was before they dated, Hermione and Ron had achieved a comfortable and cheerful friendship. And yet…Hermione still felt the same emptiness she had felt when she was with Ron.

The truth was that Hermione was lonely. She worked herself to the bone because she couldn't function without a goal. Before, she had devoted herself to her studies, to defeating Voldemort, to becoming a Junior Healer, and now she was slaving at becoming a Specialist. But once her studies were over…what would she have left?

Shaking herself out of her melancholy musing, Hermione summoned a well-worn book from the shelves behind her. Surely, she would find happiness once she sported the doubled navy lines down the front of her robes that marked her as a Specialist.

She opened the book to a random page towards the beginning – she had read this book so many times that she could nearly recite it from memory. The comfort of the familiar words soothed her and carried her away. Soon she was lost, wandering the moors with Catherine and Heathcliff.

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**NEXT TIME:**

"_And last but not least, Healers Granger and Brocklehurst, may I introduce your ward's Apprentice," said Healer Whipple, stepping aside to reveal a man who stood leaning against the doorframe._

_Hermione focused on the last apprentice for the first time. Her eyes met his, and she inhaled sharply through her nose._

"…_Apprentice Draco Malfoy."_

**A/N: I hope you liked it! Please review and let me know what you think. **

**This story marks my return to the world of fanfiction- I had several stories here about a million years ago and have lost track of that account.**

**-Aparecium88**


	2. Chapter Two

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not claim ownership over any of the characters, or any part of the Harry Potter World created by J.K. Rowling._

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CHAPTER TWO

The Healer's Lounge at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies was located on the lower lever. The lifts were unlike the Ministry lifts in that they functioned as a Muggle might expect, going only either up or down. This was so in order to lessen the amount of sick that was splashed onto their walls by patients who were already feeling ill.

If a person were to press the button marked B for Basement, they would find that the lift doors opened to a spacious room that rather resembled a library.

Bookshelves containing medical textbooks and grimoires of all shapes, sizes and ages covered nearly every inch of wall space, except for several gaps made by doors along the walls to the left and right of the lift doors, and the fireplace directly across.

A tiny kitchenette stood in the right corner of the room nearest the lifts, where a pot of water charmed to constantly boil was surrounded by large bins of tealeaves.

Warm yellow light filled the space from the lamps that were magically suspended over worn wooden tables in the corners of the room nearest the fireplace, and at the center, several comfortable looking couches created a seating area.

The lounge had a quiet, cozy feel, usually filled with the steady flip of pages from a Healer looking up an obscure counter-jinx or the quiet murmur of voices debating whether Murtlap Essence or Essence of Dittany would be best to treat a laceration.

The peaceful atmosphere was interrupted occasionally by the appearance of a frantic looking face in the fire, as a Healer attempted to page a colleague by Floo.

On the wall to the right of the lifts, two doors marked "Wizards" and "Witches" lead to the changing-rooms, where a Healer could change if a simple _Tergeo_ was not enough to remove a number of bodily fluids from their robes. Many Healers also stored their regular robes (or Muggle clothes) in their lockers so that they could change before going home at the end of their shift.

There were three doors on the wall to the left of the lifts; each labeled with a large silver "A" "B" or "C". Each of these doors lead to a small conference room, furnished with a circular wooden table and several chairs that could easily be transfigured into cots should a Healer-on-call have a moment to have a lie down.

Friday morning found Hermione sitting in the last of these rooms, Conference Room C, hunched over the table, grasping a mug of milky tea like a lifeline.

"Friday at last! Is Healer Silverleaf here yet?" gasped Mandy Brocklehurst as she bustled into the lounge, her lime green robes streaming out behind her, her dirty blonde hair pulled back into a messy knot at the top of her head.

Hermione shook her head good-naturedly at her friend as she sank into the seat beside her. While an excellent Healer, Mandy tended to forget their monthly meetings with their cohort's mentor.

Each year, those witches and wizards who were accepted as Apprentices were lumped into a cohort. During their Apprenticeship, the cohort worked together closely, attending lectures and completing rounds together.

After becoming Junior Healers, a cohort would continue to meet on a monthly basis with the Senior Healer assigned to be their mentor for the five years it took for them to advance to Senior Healer status. A Junior Healer might advance to the rank of Senior Healer in two years by completing studies to become a Specialist, but given the difficulty of the studies, few Healers decided to specialize before become a Senior Healer, if at all.

Healer Adolphus Silverleaf served as Hermione's cohort's mentor. He was a jovial, round man who worked in the Spell Damage Ward, and fortunately for Mandy, he had sent a note about five minutes earlier informing the cohort that he was running a quarter of an hour behind.

Hermione pushed a steaming mug of tea towards her friend, who accepted it gratefully. Across the table, the other two members of their cohort, William Haverford and Ernie Johnston were studiously perusing their patient notes for the day.

"So," said Mandy in a low voice, leaning in towards Hermione, "did you get that invitation from the Weasleys yesterday?"

"For the party tomorrow night? Yes, it came in the post yesterday morning," Hermione replied.

"It seems a bit early for a Christmas party- is it one of the Weasleys' birthday? I can never keep track!" Mandy mused.

"Oh, erm, no, it's not a birthday party, I don't think. Must just be a, um, spur of the moment celebration for, uh…something…" Hermione trailed off gratefully as Healer Silverleaf strode into the room.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen!" He beamed, adjusting his robes so that they lay flat against his barrel chest. While a Junior Healer wore plain lime-green robes, a Senior Healer's chest was emblazed with a crossed silver wand and bone on the left side. The robes of a Specialist were also decorated with two thin strips of navy blue down the front.

"Morning, Healer Silverleaf," said William earnestly, pushing his spectacles up his slightly crooked nose.

"Apologies for the delay, I was having a bit of trouble reversing a Finger-removing jinx from a patient- nasty jinx, that! Now, let's see- how are everyone's rounds going?"

"I have fascinating case of Horn-Growing Hex that seems to be irreversible," said Ernie, flipping through his notes, "but otherwise, things are going smoothly."

"For me as well!" quipped Mandy, "I had a boy in the Children's Ward who had managed to remove all of his leg bones while playing with his mother's wand, but I administered Skele-gro, and he should be fine within the next 48 hours."

"Good, good," said Healer Silverleaf, turning to Hermione, "And how are you doing, my dear? Balancing your studies with your rounds?"

Of the group, Hermione was the only one who had chosen to specialize, which mean that in addition to her 8-hour shift in the Children's Ward, she attended a two-hour seminar three nights a week, as well as spending her Saturday mornings shadowing one of the two current Accident Magical Injury Specialists.

"Just fine, Healer Silverleaf. I'm really enjoying working with Healers Robbins and Bartley," Hermione replied.

"Fantastic! Well, this brings me to the point of today's meeting. As you may remember from your own Apprenticeship, it is customary for second-year apprentices to begin their hospital rotations by shadowing a Senior Healer for three months before being assigned to their chosen wards for rotations," said Healer Silverleaf.

"This morning, the second-year Apprentices will begin rotations. As your cohort works in each of the wards our three Apprentices have selected, I would like to ask that you serve as a support system for their cohort."

"Of course!" exclaimed William a bit pompously, "I would be pleased to introduce the Apprentices to the rest of the Healers in the Creature-Induced Injuries Ward and make sure that everything this going smoothly for them."

"I trust the rest of you are in agreement with William?" asked Healer Silverleaf.

Ernie, Hermione, and Mandy all nodded vigorously, Ernie turning slightly pink about the ears with excitement. Mandy and Hermione exchanged a glace- few Healers opted to work in the Children's Ward.

While it was a new ward with its own floor, it was also viewed it as the least prestigious branch of magical medicine, as work often involved treating routine cases of Dragon-pox and mopping up vomit. Other than Hermione and Mandy, there were five Senior Healers who tended patients in the ward. It would be exciting to have another Healer around, even if it was only an Apprentice.

A firm knock sounded on the door of the lounge, and a witch with frizzy gray hair peered into the room.

"Ah! Morgana! Perfect timing," exclaimed Healer Silverleaf. "I'd like you all to meet Healer Morgana Whipple, mentor to our second-year Apprentices."

Healer Whipple strode into the room, her sharp black eyes assessing the four Junior Healers before her in a distinctly owlish manner. Behind her, three people garbed in the black robes and lime-green shirts that marked them as Apprentices filed into the room.

"Good morning to you all," she said crisply, "I have heard wonderful things about your cohort and am pleased to be able to place my mentees with such capable guides."

"William Haverford?" she asked, her eyes settling on William, who had straightened up attentively at the sound of his name.

"May I introduce Apprentice Arthur Mills, who has chosen to complete rotations in Creature-Induced Injuries?"

A short, brown-haired man stepped forward, nervously wiping his hands along his black robes before holding his right hand out to William.

"A p-pleasure." Arthur stammered, as William shook his hand.

At a curt nod from Healer Whipple, Arthur took a seat next to William.

"Ernie, you'll be working with Apprentice Prudence Peake," Healer Silverleaf said, "Prudence, I'd like to introduce you to Ernie Johnston, who works in Spell Damage."

Prudence, a rather grim looking young woman, whose black hair was pulled into a severely neat bun at the nape of her neck stepped over to Ernie with her hand outstretched.

"Pleasure." She said, giving Ernie a firm handshake, before sitting and smoothing some invisible wrinkles from her robes.

"And last but not least, Healers Granger and Brocklehurst, may I introduce your ward's Apprentice," said Healer Whipple, stepping aside to reveal a tall young man who stood leaning against the doorframe.

Hermione focused on the last apprentice for the first time. Her eyes met his, and she inhaled sharply through her nose.

"…Apprentice Draco Malfoy."

Standing gracefully, Draco Malfoy stepped towards the table with an appraising glace. Had she not been so observant, Hermione might have missed the look of apprehension that flitted across his face as he held out a hand to her.

"Healer Granger," he said smoothly, as her professional brain clicked into place, and she shook his hand.

"Apprentice Malfoy," she managed.

"Healer Brocklehurst," he continued fluidly, focusing his attention on Monday

Mandy shook his hand wordlessly, and Hermione could practically feel the confusion that radiated off of her friend.

"It's nice to see you both," he said coolly.

Draco sat down, leaving an empty seat between himself and the two women.

"Wonderful, wonderful!" exclaimed Healer Silverleaf, "I'm glad we are all acquainted. Now, Junior Healers, if you would please lead you respective Apprentices to their wards, I am sure there are patients waiting to be seen."

He swept out of the room, followed by Healer Whipple, and a momentary silence descended on Conference Room C.

"Well," said Ernie cheerfully to Prudence, "we best be off! I've been dealing with a particularly nasty Horn Growing Hex, perhaps you'd like to take a look?"

Prudence nodded, her pinched face becoming suddenly animated, and followed Ernie out the door, followed by William and Arthur, who seemed to have overcome his nerves and began to ask several questions about Dragon Burns.

Turning to Mandy, Hermione made a slight face. Before she could say anything though, Draco was standing in front of them, a strained expression on his face.

"Look, I'm not going to ask you to pretend I haven't been a gigantic prat to you both in the past…or to overlook my family's, uh, _shortcomings_, but I would appreciate it if we could treat each other professionally. I've worked really hard to get this Apprenticeship, and I wouldn't want it spoiled it because of my past behavior," he said in a clipped tone with a polite smile that did not reach his eyes.

"Oh, um…uh" Mandy stuttered.

Hermione cut in, "Of course. We have all worked hard to get here, and as long as we can respect that in each other, I'm sure we won't have any problems. Now, would you like to see the Children's Ward?"

Draco nodded curtly, and the three walked out of the room towards the lifts.

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**NEXT TIME:**

_Hermione flopped down onto the couch dramatically. "All I want to know is what I did wrong to deserve this!"_

"_Deserve what?" Harry asked, looking up from his pumpkin pasty._

"_Deserve to be cursed with Malfoy's sneering face behind me at every turn! I don't even understand how he passed the Apprenticeship exams, the only thing he's good at are Potions!" _

"_Wha- MALFOY! Apprentice? D'you mean…HEALING Apprentice! Wasn't- wasn't he meant to be in Azkaban?" spluttered Ron._

**A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed! We'll see much more of Draco next time- be forewarned that I am not a huge fan of Draco suddenly being a fantastic person who was secretly working for the Order, but I do think he would have changed some in the four years following the War. Let me know what you think!**

**-Aparecium88**


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not claim ownership over any of the characters, or any part of the Harry Potter World created by J.K. Rowling.

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CHAPTER THREE

Hermione stepped into her bathtub with a grimace of pleasure-pain as the hot water surrounded her aching legs. Lowering herself gingerly into the tub, she reached over and turned off the spigot, from which a stream of tiny, lavender scented bubbles was flowing.

Leaning back so that her hair formed a cushion between the base of her skull and the ceramic edge of the tub, she squeezed her eyes shut, massaging her temples with soapy fingers.

_One day down_, she thought, _only the rest of…eternity…to go._

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_**Earlier that day…**_

"Right," said Hermione brightly, "Well, this is the Children's Ward!"

"I never would have guessed," drawled Draco sarcastically, looking around.

While the walls of the Children's Ward were painted in a soft, off-white color, like every other St. Mungo's Ward, all of the accents on the floor- molding, baseboards, and the trim on windows and doors- were magicked to change color every hour. Currently, the coloration was a mix of bright primary colors.

A tiny witch with short, bubblegum pink hair bustled up to Mandy, Draco, and Hermione.

"Healer Brocklehurst, your patient in 602 just spiked a fever and is breathing fire, please come with me!" She exclaimed, bustling down the corridor.

Mandy pulled a face at Hermione as if to say "Sorry to stick you with Draco!" and began to follow the small witch down the hall.

Draco looked after them with mild concern.

"That was Healer Hestia Derwent, one of the General Healers for this ward," Hermione explained.

"Why is 602 breathing fire?" asked Draco interestedly, "I don't think I've ever heard of that before."

"Oh, right, sorry! Breathing fire is a rare, but fairly mild complication of Dragon Pox. I forget that you don't learn all of the rare symptoms in your Early Childhood Diseases course. Mandy will have it under control in no time," replied Hermione.

Draco nodded in response and an awkward silence descended in which he seemed to develop a sudden fascination with his shoes.

"Okaaaay, well, I guess I better show you around," Hermione said with a slightly overly bright smile.

She walked down the hallway, and followed it as it turned at a ninety-degree angle to revel another corridor lined with doors. About halfway down the hallways was an alcove that seemed to be a waiting area. Several chairs were pushed up against the wall and a few battered copies of _Witch Weekly _and _Wizarding People _were strewn across a coffee table. Above the chairs hung three rows of photographs.

"Well, first you'll need to know who everyone is. That's rather easy, as you've met almost half the staff. Mandy and I are the Junior Healers in this ward," she said, pointing to the bottom row of photographs.

"You already met Healer Derwent, who is one of the three General Healers. The other two are Alice Bode," she said, pointing to a photograph of a thin woman with friendly eyes and chin-length brown hair, "And Miriam Strout," pointing towards a strict-looking older woman with long gray hair.

"And of course," Hermione said, gesturing to the top row of photographs, where an ancient woman with snow white hair and a friendly looking blonde wizard beamed down at them, "There are the two specialists, Lyra Robbins, who specializes in Accidental Magical Injury, and Jerome Bartley, who specializes in both Accidental Magical Injury and Rare Childhood Diseases. Healer Bartley also serves as Head Healer for our ward."

Draco nodded, and looked over at Hermione with a small smile.

"Right. Healers Derwent, Bode, and Strout are General Healers, and Healers Robbins and Bartley are Specialists. Seems easy enough to remember, considering I already know you and Healer Brocklehurst."

"Yes, it's one of the advantages of working in this ward as opposed to say, Spell Damages- fewer faces to remember. Not to mention that Healer Robbins plans to retire once I receive my specialization next year. I'll be taking over her long-term patients." Hermione said to Draco excitedly.

"How…_wonderful_ for you," Draco said shortly.

Startled at his sudden change in tone, Hermione looked at Draco with a glare, and was about to retort when he spoke again.

"Well, you better show me around and let me get to work. I don't want to keep you from your patients." He said in his former professional manner, any hint of hostility gone from his voice.

"Right. Of course. Well, it's really quite simple," said Hermione with a slightly confused glance, wondering if she had imagined Draco's rude tone. She led Draco further down the hall.

"The ward is laid out in a rectangle. So, you really can't get lost, the hallway loops around. This hallway has patient rooms, where children coming in for routine check-ups are seen. Here, at the end of the hall, is the Parent's Lounge," she said, opening a door into a large, sunny room.

The room was decorated in beiges and deep green. Stacked on a coffee table at the center of the room, a neat stack of the day's _Daily Prophet_ stood beside a pitcher of water. A tall man in professional robes was sitting in a comfortable armchair, flipping through the paper.

"Mr. Rosco, how are you?" Hermione said, and the tall man looked up.

"Doing well today, just waiting for Eddy to finish his Deflating Draught so we can go home," replied Mr. Rosco.

"Good to hear! We'll see you next week for the next dose." Hermione said, closing the door to the lounge.

"That was Mr. John Rosco, his son Eddy is a long-term outpatient," she explained to Draco.

"Long term? Why would a long-term patient need a Deflating Draught? I thought that it was mainly used to bring down swelling from injuries like broken bones and rashes," Draco asked, brow furrowed with interest.

"Well, you see, Eddy is one of our Accidental Magical Injury patients. Unfortunately, he's been exhibiting a really odd complication, in that his fingers and toes are constantly swelling. The Deflating Draught seems to keep the swelling under control, but only for a limited amount of time. If he didn't take a weekly draught, it's possible his extremities might explode. We're still trying to find a permanent cure," Hermione explained.

Draco nodded slowly, an odd pained expression on his face.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked curiously after a moment.

Draco glared at her, "I'm fine Gra- er, _Healer_ Granger. Can we continue with this _fascinating_ tour?"

Hermione was taken aback, and wondered silently if Draco was suffering from multiple personality disorder. His mood changed back and forth from professionally polite, to almost friendly, to evil git faster than she could say "Merlin's saggy pants."

"My pleasure," she said icily.

"Down this hall is the long term ward, and this area," she said pointing to an alcove with a number of doors, "is where our offices are. You'll be sharing an office with Mandy and I."

Without taking a breath, she sped down the hall at top speed.

"Through that door is Emergencies, and around this corner are the regular patient rooms. This room here," she said, gesturing to a large and colorful room where several children where puttering around on toy broomsticks, "is the patient's lounge."

Mandy poked her head out of a door directly across from the patient's lounge, eyebrows smoking slightly.

"Hermione, is that you? Thank goodness! Can you lend a hand- you've always been better at extinguishing charms than me, and Benjamin just set his bed on fire."

Hermione pulled her wand out of her robes.

"Of course, no problem!" She said, as she hurried past Mandy into the room.

"Can you show Apprentice Malfoy to Room 615? The patient has been vomiting slugs for the past 3 hours, I'm sure that Healer Strout could use a hand with clean up," she said with a slightly evil grin.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

Draco trudged miserably into the Junior Healer's office, covered in splatters of slug-sick.

"_Tergeo_," he muttered, pointing his wand at his robes, siphoning the majority of the slime off of himself.

Hermione looked up as he threw himself into Mandy's chair and allowed herself a small smile that she was careful to conceal by ducking her head below her desk to retrieve a quill.

"Are you finished cleaning up in 615, Apprentice Malfoy?" She asked in a brisk, professional manner as she resurfaced.

Draco looked up, with a slightly wary expression.

"Yes, I am. Why? Is there another…?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, "No. I ask because if you are finished, Healer Bartley would like us to take a batch of Pepperup Potion over to emergencies. There's been a nasty cold going around, and he'd like us to see to those patients to free up beds for any real emergencies."

"Of course," said Draco, "sounds easy enough."

As Draco seemed to have recovered his good temper, the two managed to carry on a civil conversation as they walked down to the Potions storeroom and back to Emergencies.

"Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you that Maintenance will be by this afternoon to set up your desk in the Junior Healer's office," Hermione said as they entered into the large Emergencies room.

Emergencies much resembled the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, filled with several rows of beds separated by white screens. Today, the room was nearly filled with coughing, sneezing children and their concerned parents.

"Should I take this half of the room, and you the other?" asked Draco, pouring the potion into two separate phials with a flick of his wand.

"Sounds good to me," said Hermione, reaching for the phial that floated towards her, "let me know if you need any help. Remember to check for signs of Dragon Pox or Gnome Flu, the Pepperup Potion will only work on colds."

"Thanks Granger," Draco said rolling his eyes, "I believe I already passed my Healing Potions exam."

Hermione colored slightly, before hurrying to the opposite end of the room.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

"No fever," Hermione noted aloud, removing her hand from her final patient's head. Beside her, a quill scribbled furiously on the patient's chart.

She waved her wand around the small girl's chest, and observed the slightly greenish hue of the light the glowed from her chest.

"Chest congestion, but dry cough," she dictated to the chart.

"Well, Mrs. Oxhem," she said briskly to the woman sitting beside the bed, "it looks like Sarah has a simple cold, nothing to worry about."

"As you can probably tell," she said, gesturing to the rows of beds that filled the room, "we've been seeing a lot of this, but it's nothing a dose of Pepperup Potion won't cure"

Mrs. Oxhem smiled, "Thank you, Healer Granger. I just got worried when Sarah's cough got worse and worse- I was scared she might have caught Gnome Flu at playgroup."

"Well, it's good you brought her in. The differences between Gnome Flu and a cold can be difficult to spot unless you run some tests, and I always say, better safe than sorry," said Hermione cheerfully.

She turned to pour out some Pepperup, and her spine prickled in that particular way that told her someone was watching her. She looked up and met the cool blue gaze of Draco Malfoy, who was examining the patient in the bed next to Sarah Oxhem's.

He met her gaze with an inscrutable look on his face, as he poured out a dose of Pepperup Potion and handed it to his patient. Hermione tried to meet his gaze evenly, but she quickly because too aware of her face, forgetting how to arrange her expression at the same time. For some strange reason Hermione's heart leapt up into her throat and stopped beating. Her phial slipped from her hands and hit the floor with a tinkle of broken glass.

Hermione cursed under her breath, and Draco smirked at her. She ducked, cheeks flaming, and started to wave her wand at the mess on the floor. The pieces of glass stirred feebly on the ground but she was so flustered that she could not get the phial to come together. With an exasperated sigh, she knelt to pick up the shards by hand.

"Please, allow me," said a cool voice above her, "I wouldn't want you to fumble _again _and hurt yourself on the broken glass."

Hermione glared at Draco in silent fury as he repaired her broken phial, and then turned to the patient.

"Do excuse Healer Granger," he said smoothly to Mrs. Oxhem, "I'm afraid she's afflicted with overactive sweat glands. Makes it rather difficult to hold onto things."

Draco smirked down at her, and Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but she was so angry that the only sound that came out was a high-pitched squeak of indignation.

Draco poured the last of his Pepperup Potion into a dosing cup, and handed it to Sarah, whose nose was running copiously. She gulped it down, and her ears immediately began to steam.

"She should be feeling better in about half an hour. Someone will be around with her release papers shortly. Have a good day, it was a pleasure to meet you Sarah."

Draco shook Sarah's hand solemnly before striding away from the bed towards to entrance.

Hermione, still red about the face, nodded farewell to mother and child before stalking angrily after Draco's retreating form.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

With a sharp crack, Hermione Apparated into the Weasley's garden and walked up to the door. It was a sunny, but cold, Saturday afternoon and a December wind cut through her cloak, chilling her to the bone.

Ginny threw open the door with a grin at Hermione's knock.

"Hermione! So glad you could come early to help us set up!" She said, pulling her friend inside.

Ron, Harry, and George were sitting around the kitchen table, frosting a large cake.

"Ron, stop eating the frosting," scolded Mrs. Weasley, as she bustled into the kitchen. "Hermione, dear, you're here! How wonderful to see you."

Hermione smiled, "Good to see you too, Mrs. Weasley."

"Now, let me set you up with a cup of tea. Hm, maybe a sandwich as well, you're looking thin, dear," she scolded, leading Hermione into the sitting room.

"Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back in a moment!"

Hermione felt herself relaxing as she looked around the familiarly haphazard arrangement of couches and chairs, noting that a large box labeled "Dekarashuns" in childish handwriting was sitting in the corner.

"We missed you at the pub last night," came Harry's voice from behind her shoulder.

She spun around to see Harry and Ron standing the doorway, grinning at her.

"Oh! The pub! I forgot- I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed, smacking herself on the forehead, "I just had the worst day ever, and about all I could do last night was take a bath before crawling into bed with a giant bar of chocolate."

"That bad, huh? If it was a chocolate night, something _really_ terrible must have happened," said Harry teasingly and Hermione glared at him sarcastically.

"So…what happened?" asked Ron, "you know, you can't get yourself all worked up every time one of your patients gets the hiccups."

Hermione flopped down onto a couch dramatically. "All I want to know is what I did wrong to deserve this!"

"Deserve what?" Harry asked, sitting down across from her.

"Deserve to be cursed with Malfoy's sneering face behind me at every turn! I don't even understand how he passed the Apprenticeship exams, the only thing he's good at are Potions!"

"Wha- MALFOY- Apprentice? Wasn't- wasn't he meant to be in Azkaban?" spluttered Ron.

Hermione looked over at him and sighed, "Honestly Ron, do you EVER read the _Prophet_?"

"Well, I don't really need to, seeing as I have you to get me up to speed on all the important stuff." Ron said, moving Hermione's legs so he could sit on the end of the couch.

"Well, first of all," Harry said, "Draco Malfoy was never meant for Azkaban, because Lucius Malfoy swore that he had forced his son to become a Death Eater."

"And, if you had bothered to read the papers," Hermione said, "you'd know that the whole family was sentenced to two years of house arrest, rather than an Azkaban sentence because they didn't fight in the Battle of Hogwarts, and Narcissa didn't give Harry up to Voldemort."

Ron made a face and muttered, "As if I had time to read the bloody _Prophet_ that summer. Besides, what do I care what happened to that git."

"Well, I knew that when Malfoy finished his sentence was over, he was supposed, to look for employment," said Harry, "Apprentice Aurors do routine checks on all those who were pardoned after the War, so I had to look through his files a few times. But really, he's doing an Apprenticeship at St. Mungo's? I'd have more pegged him for Quidditch player, or business-type."

"I know," said Hermione, "it's weird. I didn't think his marks would have been good enough to qualify! And, what's worse is that now I have to share an office with him! He's Apprenticing in MY ward."

"It's not that he's overtly rude," she continued with a sigh, "but I just can't get a read on him. He goes from professional to first-class git in no time at all, but the truth is…he's actually a decent Healer."

Harry raised his eyebrows, and Ron snorted with disbelief, but before either could respond, Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room carrying a plate of sandwiches, a pot of tea floating behind her.

"Here you are, Hermione, dear, I made some of your favorites. Eat up! Now, if you all don't mind lending a hand, that box of decorations needs to go up, and Angelina and I could use some help with the roast," she said, laying the sandwiches down on a side table as the tea poured itself out.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

**NEXT TIME:**

"_Well, the next time you have to clean up after a child who's downed a box of Puking Pastilles, let me know," Draco said with a laugh._

_Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and the two resumed filing patient charts._

"_Hey Draco," said Hermione after a moment, "do you mind if I ask you a question?"_

_He looked at her with eyebrows raised, "What's on your mind?"_

"_Well, it's just been bugging me for a while- it's just that, well, I always figured you to be someone who'd do a job for prestige. So, why are you working in the Children's Ward?"_

_Draco's expression darkened._

"_I don't see how that's any of your business," he said coldly._

**A/N: I'm so excited to see so many of you adding me to your alerts and favorite stories! And of course, those of you who took the time to review, you are fantastic, and I'm glad you're all enjoying the story so far.**

**So, what's going on with Draco? I promise he doesn't actually have Multiple Personality Disorder. Treats for anyone who can guess what's up!**

**-Aparecium88**


	4. Chapter Four

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not claim ownership over any of the characters, or any part of the Harry Potter World created by J.K. Rowling._

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CHAPTER THREE

Hermione brushed aside a strand of red tinsel that was hanging down into the doorway leading into her kitchen on Christmas Eve morning. The previous day, Mandy and Ginny had descended on her apartment with boxes of garlands and ornaments, proclaiming that it was high time for Hermione to get into the Christmas spirit.

They spent a pleasant evening decorating her apartment, drinking spiced wine and goofily dancing around to Celestina Warbeck's _Greatest Christmas Hits_ album ("Courtesy of Mum," Ginny remarked as she produced the record with a roll of her eyes). Hermione had collapsed, slightly drunk, fully clothed, and completely exhausted, onto her still-made bed some time past two in the morning.

When her alarm had roused her four hours later, Hermione had rolled out of bed onto the floor and lain there cursing Mandy and Ginny until the shrill voice of her alarm clock screeching "_You can sleep when you're dead!"_ got to be too much for her sleep-deprived brain, and she sped into the bathroom to get away from the noise.

"One more day," Hermione muttered as she dug around in the refrigerator, looking for something edible that was not past its expiration date. After a minute, she gave up, and grabbed a granola bar as she ran out the door.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

As had become the usual routine over the past few weeks, Hermione arrived at work just on time to find Draco already immersed in patient charts at his desk.

"Morning," she said politely as she collapsed into her chair.

"Good Morning, Healer- Merlin, Granger, you look awful!" Draco exclaimed as he looked up.

"Thanks," said Hermione dryly, "That's just what every girl wants to hear first thing in the morning."

"Sorry," he said, coloring slightly, "I just meant, are you okay? I bet Mandy and I can cover for you today if you aren't feeling well…"

"No, I'm fine, just tired," explained Hermione, catching a memo that had just flown in the door and unfolding it, "Mandy and Ginny came over last night to decorate for the holiday, and I didn't get very much sleep."

She glanced over the note and rolled her eyes, tossing the memo over to Draco.

"Looks like Mandy is out "sick" today, so we're on our own," Hermione said with a sigh.

Draco looked down at the note, which was printed in the neat handwriting of the Welcome Witch at reception:

_A MESSAGE FROM ST. MUNGO'S RECEPTION_

_Date/Time: December 24, 8:05am_

_ Message from: Healer Mandy Brocklehurst_

_Message: Healer Brocklehurst will not be in today, as she has an upset stomach and suspects she may have caught Gnome Flu from one of her patients. Apologies, and Happy Christmas._

Draco snorted, "Gnome Flu? We haven't seen a case yet this year. Sounds more like a hangover to me."

Hermione grinned ruefully, "It's probably my fault for letting her drink so much last night. What's our day looking like?"

Draco flipped through the short stack of patient charts on his desk, neatly dividing them and handing half to Hermione.

"Pretty easy day today, as most regular out-patients won't be in for the holidays, and that outbreak of colds seems to have finally spent itself," Hermione said out loud as she looked through the files.

"Okay, let's do our rounds and meet back here after lunch. If Healer Bartley doesn't have anything else for us to do, maybe we can get out of here early today," she continued as she stood and smoothed out her robes.

"Sounds fine with me," said Draco, and they walked in opposite directions down the hall.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

Hermione brushed aside a dangling piece of tinsel as she exited her last patient's room. As usual, St. Mungo's was quiet in the hours before a major holiday. In several hours, the emergency wards would be full to bursting with witches and wizards who had imbibed too much oak-matured mead, or accidentally set themselves on fire while trying to roast their Christmas goose.

Beyond relieved to finally be a senior enough Healer to be given a Christmas vacation, Hermione walked back towards her office grimacing at the memory of the past few Christmases she had spent up to her elbows in potions in the emergency wards.

"Hermione," boomed Healer Bartley from within his office as Hermione passed.

Hermione turned and stuck her head in the doorway.

"Happy Christmas!" he said, "I was thinking that since it's the holidays, I should let you go early. If you and Draco could finish re-filing the charts that we pulled this week, you can get home to your families."

"Wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, "Thank you, and Happy Christmas to you."

"Enjoy your holiday Healer Granger," Healer Bartley smiled, as Hermione nearly skipped down the hall towards her office.

As she reached to open the door, Hermione saw Draco heading down the hall towards her. She called out, "Good news- Healer Bartley is sending us home early!"

"Excellent!" exclaimed Draco.

"He'd like us to finish up re-filing charts, but then we are free to go," Hermione explained, ducking into her office to grab the stack of charts that had built up by the door.

Draco and Hermione headed towards the records room, talking cheerfully and collecting charts as they passed the offices of the other Healers in their ward.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

Draco and Hermione were ensconced on the floor in the dimly lit records room, laughing together as they magically filed charts. With each swish of their wands, the chart at the top of their piles would float into the air and zipped across the room to the appropriate shelf, where it slide in between other files in perfect alphabetical order.

"Believe me, the slugs that I made you clean up on your first day are NOTHING compared to what Mandy and I had to deal with on our first day in the ward. You have no idea what disgusting is until you have to bail yourself out of a room full of vomit with a bucket." Hermione said with a shudder.

"Well, the next time you have to clean up after a child who's downed a box of Puking Pastilles, let me know," Draco said with a laugh.

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and the two resumed filing patient charts from the steadily dwindling piles beside them. Hermione inhaled deeply, and realized with a start that she had enjoyed the past half hour. Sitting in the musty, damp records room, filing charts was normally her least favorite job, and yet the time had flown by today. It was strange how nice Draco could be sometimes. It was almost as if they were becoming…friends.

This thought was startling to her. It was true that over the past few weeks they had certainly developed a cordial working relationship, but Hermione would never had imagined that she could enjoy, or might even willingly subject herself to, Draco Malfoy's company. It seemed strange that someone who had subjected her to scorn and humiliation for years could actually turn out to be a decent human being.

"Hey Draco," said Hermione after a moment, "do you mind if I ask you a question?"

He looked at her with eyebrows raised, "What's on your mind?"

"Well, it's been bugging me for a while…no, that's not what I mean, not bugging…just- it's just that, well, I always figured you to be someone who'd do a job for prestige. So, why are you working in the Children's Ward?"

Draco's expression darkened.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," he said coldly after a moment.

"Oh…" faltered Hermione, "um, sorry…I didn't mean to offend you…"

"No, sorry, I didn't mean it like that." He said quickly, "If you can't tell, I don't usually talk much about myself."

He paused, and began swishing his wand more violently, so that that files flew across the room at high speed. Hermione waited patiently as he stared at the wall opposite and exhaled through his nose.

"I've always wanted to work here," he began slowly, "my- well, I knew someone who was affected by an Accidental Magical Injury. There was no help for them at the time."

He stopped, but before Hermione could think of anything to say, he started speaking again.

"Ever since, I've wanted…I just want to help make sure that no one else gets hurt because they can't control their magic."

Hermione nodded silently.

Draco continued, "When the war ended…and everything…I was so scared that I wouldn't be able to do this. Becoming a Healer…well, it meant so much. I got really lucky, the Wizengamot let me off easy because…well, because of some things. Anyways, that's why I'm here, I guess."

Draco continued to stare at the opposite wall, a slight look of defiance on his face, as if he was daring her to make a snide comment about his sudden bout of openness.

"Thanks," said Hermione softly.

"For what?" Draco asked, looking at her in confusion.

"For trusting me enough to tell me that," she replied.

"Oh. Well, we work together, so I guess I have to trust you. And…you're really easy to talk to," he said with a slight shrug, as he finished up sorting his pile of charts.

Draco stood up and dusted off his robes, and walked out of the room.

Hermione continued to file absentmindedly, deep in thought about the conversation that had just transpired. In truth, Draco hadn't told her anything at all. He stopped himself every time he had come close to saying anything worthwhile. In Hermione's experience, that meant a person had something to hide.

Not that she suspected Draco was secretly plotting anything, she could tell that everything he said was the truth. It just seemed that while he claimed to trust her, he didn't want her to know the details behind his story. Who had he known? And why HAD the Wizengamot let him off easily? He had been a Death Eater, or at least played the part extremely well.

Hermione shuddered slightly, remembering Dumbledore's death. She believed that people could change, and Draco certainly seemed to be a different person that the boy she had known in school. She only wondered what was behind his transformation.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

Forty-five minutes later, Hermione walked out of the changing-rooms into the Healer's Lounge in a comfortable pair of jeans and old shirt. As she struggled with the zip on her heavy winter coat, she tripped over a pair of long legs that were attached to a man lounging on one of the couches.

Steadying herself, she looked at the owner of the legs in question in surprise.

"Draco? Why are you still here?" she exclaimed in surprise, "I thought you left ages ago."

"I was waiting to walk out with you," he said with a shrug, "I didn't know you were going to take that long."

Hermione colored, "Sorry- I was, um, organizing my locker. It really worries me to not have it neat for the next time I come in. I have this really weird anxiety about coming in for an emergency and not being able to find my robes."

Draco smirked at her, but didn't comment, as he got up off the couch, and they walked towards the lift together.

"So, any fun plans for the holiday?" asked Hermione as they stepped out into the lobby.

"You mean besides being back here at midnight to work the night shift?" Draco replied with a wry smile.

"Well…there's always the ever-exciting Malfoy family Christmas dinner tomorrow. Of course, it'll just be me, Father, and Mother since, well…" he trailed off, looking embarrassed.

Hermione nodded with understanding. Lucius Malfoy, unlike all the other Death Eaters in Voldemort's inner circle, had not been put in Azkaban solely because the Malfoys had not fought during the Battle of Hogwarts. Instead, he was sentenced to 10 years of house arrest. While this wasn't exactly a hardship- the grounds of Malfoy manor were expansive- it did mean that any visitors to the Manor had to be specially approved by the Ministry of Magic, and the guidelines for approval were strictly limited to emergencies. The last time Hermione checked, Christmas dinner did not count as an emergency.

"What about you? Any plans?" Draco asked awkwardly.

"Oh, nothing too special. I'll be spending the evening with the Weasleys at the Burrow, and then tomorrow I'll be with my family for Christmas dinner," she said.

They had reached the exit, and Draco gestured for Hermione to step through first.

Outside, snow was falling lighting, creating an orange glow around the street lamps as Hermione waited for Draco to step through the window of Purge and Dowse, Ltd. A moment later, he appeared through the window, the sheet of glass rippling slightly as his solid form passed through it.

"I guess this is where we part ways," he said with a slight smile.

"Yes, I have to stop at home before going over to the Weasleys'…so, um, Happy Christmas Draco!" Hermione said.

"Happy Christmas," Draco echoed as Hermione spun on the spot and disappeared with a sharp cracking noise.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

Hermione sped around her apartment looking frantically for Spello-tape. She had purchased some Self-Wrapping Paper in the sale at Flourish and Blott's a week ago, and it seemed to be defective. While the paper would cut and wrap itself around gifts, the edges weren't sticking together properly.

"Spello-tape, Spello-tape, I know you are here somewhere," Hermione muttered, rummaging through her desk while trying to fit her left foot into a black pump.

Giving up, she pulled her wand from the pocket of her maroon dress robes.

"_Accio_ Spello-tape!"

The tape flew towards her from under a pile of mail, and she caught it just before it conked her on the head.

Shoving her right foot into her other shoe, Hermione dashed over the pile of presents on the floor, and applied Spello-tape to the open edges before depositing the gifts in her bag, which, of course, had an Undetectable Extension Charm on it.

Hermione checked her watch, and cursed under her breath as she realized she was running late. With her luck, by the time she got there, Ron would have eaten all of Mrs. Weasley's excellently prepared feast, and she would be stuck with the rock cakes Hagrid always sent over for Christmas.

As she turned off the lights in her flat and headed out the door, the image of Draco Malfoy and his parents sitting alone in a dimly lit room, at the head of a long table, picking away silently at their Christmas dinner flashed across her mind. For some reason, it made her very sad.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

"_I'm sorry, but WHAT is your problem?" Hermione screeched, hands balled into fists at her side._

_Draco glared at her, breathing hard through his nostrils._

"_You are the most unbelievable arsehole I have ever met! No wonder your father hates you!"_

_With a snarl of fury, Draco whipped out his wand._

"_Silencio! You. Have. No. Idea… of what you're talking about, Granger," he hissed menacingly._

**A/N Apologies for the huge delay in updates, my computer crashed over the holidays (I had to buy a new one, ouch!) and I've been super busy lately between all the different odd jobs I've got going on.**

**Do you, faithful reader, enjoy the story? If you do, I'll definitely keep going. Let me know!**

**Also, I love to check out my reviewers' fictions to see what they are writing. Everyone should go check out The Trials and Tribulations of a Wizarding War by Science-Fantasy93, it's a great story!**

**-Aparecium88**


	5. Chapter Five

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not claim ownership over any of the characters, or any part of the Harry Potter World created by J.K. Rowling._

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CHAPTER FIVE

"Bleccccchhhhh," said Mandy as she slide into the booth across from Hermione, "I'm coming off of a holiday-induced food and alcohol binge. And it is not pretty on the other side. None of my trousers fit!"

Hermione groaned, "Yeah, I definitely ate a few too many mince pies at Mum and Dad's over the holidays."

"I never want to think about mince meat again," Mandy muttered, "or cookies. Or alcohol. Oh god, New Year's…"

Mandy slumped over onto the table, burying her face in her arms, and Hermione took a sip of her latte with a smile. While Hermione tended towards moderation when it came to drink, once Mandy got started on a bottle of Ogden's, she tended to forget about her many resolves to never drink again.

Mandy and Hermione had been given a long weekend off because of New Year's. They had planned to meet for coffee before work to catch up on each other's lives, as they had worked different shifts from each other over the holidays and hadn't seen each other in almost a week.

A waiter shuffled over with Mandy's coffee order, which floated next to her messy hair, tapping her gently on the side of the head until she reached out with one hand and tugged it down onto the table. Barely lifting her head above the level of the mug, she began to slurp at the black coffee dejectedly.

Hermione shook her head at her friend, who was clearly not up to an early morning gossip, and continued to nurse her latte, staring out of the window of the coffee shop, which was fogging up around the edges. There was something distinctly depressing about early January. The whole world seemed stripped of the glitz and glam of the holiday season, and with it had gone happiness and color. A thaw had turned the pretty holiday snow into gray slush that slopped about on the streets, an echo of the dismal gray sky.

A few witches and wizards trudged past the window in the dim early morning light, their winter coats and cloaks spattered with mud that squelched up from the cobblestones with each step.

Hermione and Mandy sat in silence, finishing their drinks. The golden watch on Hermione's wrist pinged brightly, and Mandy groaned.

"Back to the grind," Hermione said with a slight sigh, digging around in her pockets and sorting out enough Sickles and Knuts to pay for their coffee.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

In comparison to Hermione and Mandy's glum faces, Draco looked positively radiant, albeit in a slightly maniacal way, at the prospect of everyone finally being back at work.

While Junior Healers like Hermione and Mandy were expected to cover full shifts over the holidays, they were allowed to take time off, if they made that time up during other shifts. As an apprentice, Draco had been expected to work overtime shifts in order to accommodate the more senior Healers' vacations, and as a result, he was exhausted and thrilled to have a full staff back at work.

"Good morning Hermione, Mandy, how are you this morning?" he said cheerfully, looking up from his desk, where a large array of papers were spread.

Mandy muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Piss off," as she slumped into her chair and began shuffling the mess of papers on her own desk haphazardly.

Hermione, on the other hand, smiled at Draco, "Morning Draco. I'm well. How were things over the long weekend?"

"Fairly quiet here in the Children's Ward," he said, "but I hear that they ran out of Hangover Potion over in General Emergencies twice!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, and he continued, handing her a patient log, "We had a few patients in with minor burns off of some Weasleys' Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs, but other than that, hardly anything."

"Good, that sounds pretty normal. Unlike Christmas morning, there are relatively few things that can go wrong for children on New Year's Eve," Hermione replied, scanning the entries on the patient log.

"How are my long-term patients? I don't see their charts" Mandy queried, looking up from her desk.

"Oh, right, sorry- here they are. And everyone seems to be doing well," Draco said, grabbing a stack of charts from the floor next to his chair and handing them to Mandy.

"Thanks," Mandy said shortly, grabbing the charts and stalking out of the room.

"What's wrong with Mandy?" Draco said, staring after the usually friendly Healer in confusion.

"Don't mind her," Hermione sighed, "She's always like this right after the holiday. Once her liver starts functioning again she'll be fine."

"Oh, I see," Draco said with a knowing grin.

"Yes," Hermione replied, as she began to go through her patient charts, "How were your holidays? Sorry that you were stuck here for most of it."

"Oh, that's okay, I didn't really mind. I usually have to spend them with my family…my Father isn't exactly my biggest fan, so it was nice to not have to spend a whole week at the Manor like I usually do," he said.

Although he tried to mask his feelings by speaking lightly, Hermione noticed the slight hardening of his tone when he spoke about his father, and wisely refrained from commenting.

"Yeah, my parents always end up driving me nuts by the end of any prolonged visit- I was kind of glad when New Year's rolled around," she said with a friendly roll of her eyes.

"Yes, agreed. Well, I better get started on my rounds," Draco said, getting up, "Will you be able to check on my diagnoses later today? I'd ask Mandy, but I think she might bite my head off."

"No problem, I'll check in on you around lunch," Hermione said, standing.

The two healers walked out of the office, parting ways as Hermione headed for the Accidental Magical Injuries corridor, and Draco headed for Emergencies.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

Hermione tore through the corridors towards the Emergencies Ward, her green robes streaming out behind her.

Panting, she sped through the door towards the far corner of the room, where canvas screens had been erected to create a private, soundproof area. Several matrons were standing outside of the private area, looking grim, and one pointed her wand at the canvas screens as Hermione approached.

A narrow entryway appeared in the canvas, and as Hermione slid through into the makeshift room, it sealed itself behind her.

While the rest of the Emergencies Ward was fairly calm, inside the canvas screens Healers Robbins and Bartley and two Matrons were rushing around. In the corner, Draco Malfoy stood as if petrified, a look of horror on his face.

Hermione focused in at the small form in the bed, and she gasped. A tiny girl, of about 3 or 4 years old, was lying unconscious on the bed, bleeding profusely from the nose and ears.

Healers Bartley and Robbins were feverishly working away at attempting to stem the stream of blood that was slowly seeping across the white hospital linens.

"Healer Granger," Healer Bartley said sharply, "good, you're here."

Hermione snapped into Healer mode, pulling out her wand and muttering a spell that formed a protective barrier between her hands and her patient.

"Status?" She asked briskly, as she moved closer to the patient.

"Four year-old female, threw a tantrum when her mother took away her toy broomstick. Blew up broomstick while mother was holding it. Apparent internal injuries to patient. Mother in critical condition downstairs," Healer Robbins rattled off, while dabbing a steaming potion onto the child's nose and ears.

Hermione sucked in her breath, as she reached for a cloth and began to mop the blood away from the girl's face.

"Robbins, let Granger do that," Healer Bartley barked, "I need you to help me assess the damage."

Healer Robbins wordlessly handed the phial of Clotting Serum to Hermione, and drew out her wand.

The two senior healers pointed their wands at the top of the child's head. A jet of blue light shot out of Healer Bartley's wand, met the child's forehead, before shooting up to meet the tip of Healer Robbin's wand.

With a slow, synchronized motion, the two Healers dragged their wands down the length of the girl's body. As the moved downwards, the blue light traveled with them, curving to flow precisely over the girl, as the spell scanned her body for damage.

When the Healers reached her toes, they brought their wand tips together, and the light abruptly disappeared. A moment later, black text began to spew out of the tip of Healer Bartley's wand. A Matron stepped forward with a sheet of parchment, and began to deftly catch the words on the sheet as they flew through the air.

Hermione finished applying the Clotting Serum, and motioned for the Matron to begin cleaning the blood off of the patient. She strode over to the basin in the corner and began to wash the blood from her hands.

Healer Bartley finished scanning the parchment, and passed it over to Healer Robbins.

"Blood loss is our most immediate concern," he said, "Apprentice Malfoy, please brew an infusion."

Hermione had forgotten than Draco was even in the room. She glanced over at him, noting his ashen face as he nodded and slipped out of the canvas entryway.

"The child seems to have suffered slight brain damage. It appears that her short-term memory has been scrambled, we'll have to get a Specialist on that. Motor functions and muscle memory seem to be impaired as well. Otherwise, the patient seems to be in stable condition. Healer Granger, I'm going to put you in charge of this case, as Healer Robbins has three other patients. Now, I'm going to go check in on the mother," Healer Bartley said grimly as he walked towards the canvas.

Healer Robbins followed him wordlessly, the canvas opening and then sealing behind them.

Hermione looked down at her patient with a sigh of compassion. Her skin was yellowing from loss of blood, even though the Clotting Serum seemed to have taken effect.

The matron who had been cleaning the child up was a short blonde woman named Alice. She stood and handed Hermione the patient chart.

"Her name is Aurelia King, Healer Granger," she said.

"Thank you, Alice," said Hermione, "Can you please get some clean bed linens and a gown? And please check the status of the private long-term rooms. I'd like to move Aurelia as soon as it is safe to do so."

"Of course," Alice replied, bustling away.

Hermione sat down beside the child, watching her tiny chest rise and fall. She smoothed back the girl's hair, noticing that it was still caked with blood. She reached over and grabbed a pitcher of water and a sponge and began to dab at Aurelia's sticky hair.

Absorbed in the task of gently cleaning the bloodstains from Aurelia's face and scalp, Hermione lost track of time. Some minutes later, the canvas parted, and Draco stepped through, holding a small cauldron that was filled with a thick muddy substance.

He handed her the cauldron, "It's pig-based."

Hermione nodded and reached for the basin that she had been rinsing the bloody cloth in. She poured a small amount of the bloody water into the cauldron, which turned a violent pink before darkening to a brilliant red.

The infusion Draco had brewed was a blood-supplement. A Healer could add a sample of the patient's blood to the animal-blood based infusion, and it would transform into a transfusion of new blood for the patient.

Hermione and Draco worked in silence as the set up the infusion. A slim plastic tube was inserted into Aurelia's arm, the other end placed in the cauldron. Hermione tapped the tube with her wand, and it began to quietly slurp the infusion from the cauldron. New blood flowed through the tube into Aurelia's arm, and as they monitored the infusion, Hermione watched Aurelia's skin gradually return to a normal hue. The only sound in the canvas room was the slow sucking of the tube.

Hermione broke the silence, and looked over at Draco.

"This is your first Accidental Magical Injury patient, isn't it?" she asked softly.

Draco nodded, staring down at the child in the bed.

"The first one is always the worst. You'll get used to it." She said.

Draco said nothing, but clenched his jaw.

At that moment, the Matron, Alice, rushed through the canvas partition.

"Healer Granger. Healer Bartley needs to see you in his office."

"Okay," said Hermione, leaping up, "Draco, can you please see that the remainder of the patient's infusion goes smoothly?

He nodded again, and bent over the small figure in the bed, as Hermione sped out after Alice.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

Hermione stepped into Healer Bartley's office, and he motioned for her to take a seat in one of the leather armchairs that faced his desk.

Healer Bartley looked up at Hermione, his normally smiling face tired and creased at the brow.

"The girl's mother passed away 10 minutes ago in emergencies," he said simply, and Hermione sank down into her chair.

"We'll be looking for the next of kin, the emergency contacts did not list a father, but hopefully we will be able to find him," he continued heavily.

"We'll want to assess the extent of the damage to the girl's memory and consider having the Memory Specialist selectively repair her mind," he said.

Hermione inhaled deeply, willing the tears that had formed in her eyes to stay put.

"Yes, of course, Healer Bartley. We will have to see what the father or family members want, but I think it would be best to leave her with an unclear memory of the event, as a clear memory could traumatize her later on," Hermione said slowly.

"Reception is working on finding the girl's family. I think it would be prudent to move her to a private room in the long-term ward in the meantime, as she will be with us at least until we can repair her memory."

"Of course," said Hermione softly, "Thank you for keeping me updated, Healer Bartley."

_**8888888888888888888888**_

Hermione followed Alice and Draco as they levitated Aurelia's bed down the hall towards the small private room that had been prepared for the child. As with all room in the long-term ward, the room had been specifically prepared for the occupant. The walls had been magicked to a cheery lemon yellow, and paintings of yellow chicks chirped quietly on the walls.

There was an empty space in the middle of the room where a bed belonged, and two comfortable chairs along the wall nearest the window. The wall along the door had a small bookshelf that was stocked with Wizarding picture books and a few stuffed animals.

Alice floated the bed down into the center of the room, and looked over at Hermione.

Hermione stepped forward with a nod to Alice.

"Thank you Alice. Apprentice Malfoy and I can take over from here," she said, and Alice stepped out of the room.

Hermione stepped forward towards Aurelia to get a closer look at the girl. Her color had come back, and she was beginning to toss and turn slightly. Hermione placed a cool hand on the girl's forehead to still her movement, frowned at the warm temperature of her skin, and turned to Draco.

"She seems to be running a fever. I think it will be best to induce a coma so that her body can repair itself undisturbed."

Draco inclined his head stiffly and said in a skeptical tone, "If you think it is for the best."

Hermione looked at him quizzically, "Yes, _Apprentice_ Malfoy, it is my professional opinion that the patient would heal faster if she did not further hurt herself thrashing about instead of resting."

She touched her wand to Aurelia's temple, and murmured softly, watching as Aurelia's expression softened and the tension melted from her small body. She began to pull the covers up around Aurelia's body, but Draco snatched them from her.

"Please, let me. I would think it is beneath a _Healer_ of your importance to tuck in a silly little _patient_."

Hermione gaped at him and wondered if he had somehow accidentally gotten into some of the personality-modification potions while he was preparing Aurelia's infusion earlier.

"No, it's really no problem. I enjoy interacting with my patients," she said slowly.

"You are aware that your_ patient _has a name, are you not? Or is she just Long Term Patient #4 to you?" he said sarcastically.

Hermione's bewildered expression softened with understanding.

"Draco, of course I am aware that my patient has a name. It is Aurelia King. She is four years old, and her mother just passed away. However, you will find that it is easier to deal with hard cases such as this if you do not allow yourself to become too emotionally involved. I remember my first few Accidental Magical Injury cases, they can be very upsetting, but you must remain professional in order to give your patients the best treatment possible," Hermione explained kindly.

Draco sneered.

"Easy for you to say, Granger. I'm sure this is just another "interesting" case for you, huh? Maybe if you had a heart, rather than just a brain, you'd realize that you are dealing with human beings. When we find her father, he's going to come and see her lying here like she is dead because you put her in a coma! We could have easily put her under something semi-permanent like _Petrificus Totalus_ rather than putting her in a coma that she won't come out of until she is fully healed."

"I'm sorry, but WHAT is your problem?" Hermione screeched, hands balled into fists at her side, "I feel deeply for this patient, and her family but I am NOT going to let that get in the way of helping to heal her as well and as quickly as I am able! The course of action I took will help Aurelia to heal much faster- and better- than if I put her under _Petrificus Totalus_!"

Draco glared at her, breathing hard through his nostrils.

"Clearly you know best, Healer Granger," he said, turning to walk out the door.

As he walked away he muttered, "_Heartless bitch_."

Hermione whirled towards him in a rage. Her mind raced back to their conversation about the holidays earlier that day.

"You are the most unbelievable arsehole I have ever met! No wonder your father hates you! I'd hate you too if I had the misfortune of giving life to a git like you!"

With a snarl of fury, Draco whipped out his wand. Hermione instantly regretted her words.

"_Silencio_! You. Have. No. Idea… of what you're talking about, Granger," he hissed menacingly, stepping towards her.

Hermione took a step back, suddenly realizing how much taller her was than her. She felt panic rising as she backed away from him. There was no one else around, and she couldn't scream for help.

She backed into the bed, and stumbled. Draco broke eye contact with Hermione as his gaze fell on the still form of Aurelia King. His face twisted in a grimace of pain and sadness, and as Hermione watched in shock, he turned away from her, nearly running for the door.

As he rushed out of the door, he pointed his wand over his shoulder, reversing the spell that had silenced her voice.

"Draco?" Hermione called after him, concerned.

There was no answer, and when she stepped out into the hall after, he had disappeared.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

**Next time:**

_Hermione reached over to take his hand. After an agonizing moment when she thought he might pull away, she felt his fingers wrap around her own and squeeze._

_They sat in silence, staring down at Aurelia's still form._

**A/N: Another update! Thanks for the kind comments from all who reviewed, I tried really hard to get this next chapter out in a timely fashion thanks to your encouragement (and made it a little longer than usual as well!) Let me know if you liked this chapter, the plot really picks up from here in the next few chapters!**

**: Sorry, no presents for Draco in this chapter. I also read too many Dramione fics and while I'm trying to give this story a plot that hasn't been done a million times, I'm sure some of my favorite situational clichés will creep in!**

**-Aparecium88**


	6. Chapter Six

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not claim ownership over any of the characters, or any part of the Harry Potter World created by J.K. Rowling._

_**8888888888888888888888**_

**CHAPTER SIX**

The next morning, Hermione knocked tentatively on the door jamb of Aurelia's room. Draco was sitting next to the girl, and had nodded off in his chair. His head jerked up at the sound of the knock, and he stared up at her with bleary, exhausted eyes.

Feeling more confident that he was not about to hex her, Hermione slid through the slightly open door and settled herself next to Draco in one of the comfortable yellow chairs. They sat, not meeting each other's gaze for several moments.

"I-" they both began at once.

"Sorry, you go first," said Hermione gently.

"No, it's okay, I just wanted to apologize for being such an arsehole yesterday," said Draco.

"Well, I'm sorry too. I obviously did something to upset you…although I'm not sure what I did," said Hermione with a small rueful smile.

When Draco didn't answer, she continued, "Aurelia is looking much better this morning. Her color is up, and her chart said that her fever was down overnight-"

"I know," Draco interrupted, "I was here."

Taking in Hermione's confused expression, he continued, "I stayed here with her. Overnight."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Draco rushed on, not letting her speak.

"Before you start lecturing me about how I can't become emotionally attached to my patients, there is something that you need to know."

"Ok," said Hermione, leaning back in her chair and looking at him closely. She could sense that Draco was wrestling with something big, and her heart ached to see a fellow creature, much less one that she was beginning to think of as a friend, struggling.

Draco took a deep, shaky breath.

"I don't know if this is ever going to get easy for me. If I were smart, I wouldn't do this job. But I can't not. I need to do this job. You have…you have no idea how hard I worked to get to be sitting in this room today…" he began softly, still staring down at Aurelia.

Suddenly, his head snapped up towards hers.

"This is stupid. You can't even begin to understand," he snapped, getting up.

"Draco, wait," Hermione said as he began to talk out of the room.

He paused, steps from the door.

"I can't understand if you don't give me a chance to. Please, help me to understand what is going on with you," she said softly.

He turned towards her, his eyes searching her face. Whatever it was the he was looking for, he seemed to have found, because he reached over to the table by the door and grabbed an empty phial from it.

Hermione watched, eyes wide, as Draco held the tip of his wand to his temple, and extracted a wispy, silvery substance. A memory. He placed the silver wisp into the phial, stopped it, and tossed it over to her.

Her hand flew out and caught it automatically, and she stared down at it in surprise. While Harry had told her about them, and she had read up extensively on the subject during her Apprenticeship, she had never actually held another person's memories before. The phial was heavier than she had expected it to be, and the substance inside swirled of its own accord.

"Draco?"

"Use the Pensieve," he said shortly.

He turned abruptly and walked out the door. Hermione stood, staring after him, the phial of memories clutched in her hand.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

The Pensieve at St. Mungo's was located at the back of the storage closet, among the other supplies used to diagnose and treat disorders of the mind. The large, shallow basin was stored on a shelf all to itself to allow easy access for any Healer who might have need of it.

As a diagnostic tool, only specially trained Healers could use the Pensieve to look at a patient's memories; but many Healers used the Pensieve to help them review their own memories of a particularly difficult case to help decide the best course of treatment. Healers who worked in Emergencies often needed to use the Pensieve to make sure that they didn't get cases mixed up if the Emergencies Ward was particularly busy.

With swish and flick of her wand, Hermione levitated the Pensieve and walked with it across the Lounge. Pushing open the door of Conference Room A, she flicked her wand towards the table at the center of the room, and the Pensieve floated over to it, settling gently on the center of the table.

Pushing the door shut with her foot, Hermione crossed the room and stood over the undulating contents of the stone basin. Her hands shook slightly has she carefully poured Draco's memory into the Pensieve and watched the silvery substance inside begin to gently swirl.

Hermione bent towards the Pensieve, and then hesitated, trying to prepare herself for the unsettling sensation of entering someone's memories. Shaking her head ruefully, she scolded herself for feeling nervous. The sensation of enter a memory couldn't possibly be worse than the squeeze of Apparition, and she did that nearly every day.

Taking a deep breath, she dipped her head into the basin, and with a slight lurch, felt herself falling downwards into a dark mist that gradually began to solidify into a room.

Slightly dazed, Hermione looked around. She was in a large bedroom. In front of her was a large bay window that looked out over a carefully manicured garden, although the far corner of the garden had been blackened and smoked slightly. Dark green drapes hung about the windows, and the floor beneath her was carpeted in a plush gray. The room was tastefully furnished with a table and chairs, a large canopy bed, and several sets of drawers.

The door of the room stood slightly ajar, and if she had been paying attention she would have seen a pair of eyes peering through the crack in the door. However, her eyes moved past the door and focused on taking in the room more closely.

She realized she was in a child's room. The table and chairs were scaled to comfortably seat a toddler, and were painted with animated serpents whose tongues flickered playfully. The oversized canopy bed had a set of stairs, painted with the same motif, pushed up against it so that a child could easily climb in and out of bed.

As her eyes took in the bed, she started. There was a child in the bed. She stepped closer to the bed and looked into the face of a young Draco Malfoy.

Something was wrong. Draco's eyes were open, but they were empty. He stared blankly ahead without blinking. Only the shallow rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was, in fact, alive. As she stepped even closer to get a better look at the pale child in the bed, the door behind her flew open, and another child who had been standing at the door hurtled past her, and threw itself onto the bed in tears.

Hermione blinked. She was seeing double. Two Draco Malfoys were now in the bed in front of her. The second Draco shook the first, and sobbed,

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

The first Draco did not respond. He lay there, staring off into space with the same empty expression.

_Draco has a twin brother?_ She thought incredulously.

And then Hermione began to see the differences. The first Draco, the child lying in the bed, was smaller, younger than the second. His empty eyes were brown. The second Draco, the real Draco, was maybe 5 years old. His eyes, although red-rimmed and streaming with tears, were the same gray eyes she looked into nearly every day at work.

"Scorpius. Wake up." Draco moaned, tugging at his younger brother's hand.

Hermione was so transfixed by the scene in front of her that she didn't even notice the other person enter the room until he reached over and scooped Draco off of the bed.

Lucius Malfoy stood next to her, albeit a Lucius Malfoy that was nearly unrecognizable under the heavy burden of grief. His usually immaculate hair streamed about his shoulders in a messy snarl, his face bore the stubble of a man who hadn't shaved in a couple days, and his proud shoulders slumped over the sobbing figure of his son.

"Hush, Draco. It isn't becoming for a Malfoy man to cry. You must be strong for Mother." He said.

Draco clung to his father and tried to choke down his sobs.

"When will Scorpius wake up? I'm sorry I made him so upset, I- I didn't mean it," he said in a wobbly voice.

A spasm of pain shadowed Lucius' face.

"I know you didn't mean it, Draco," he said, and then paused, seemingly at a loss, "…Why don't you go to your room and take care of Merlin?"

Draco nodded mutely, and Lucius produced a packet of owl treats from his pocket as he carried his son out of the room and set him down in the hallway. He shut the door firmly behind him and strode down the hallway with a firm backwards glance. His message to Draco was clear: Stay out of that room.

Draco looked down at the packet of owl treats that he clutched in his hand. With a last sniff, he began to walk down the hall in the opposite direction that Lucius had gone. Hermione followed Draco as he dragged himself slowly down the hall, before stopping about a hundred feet from the door of another room, which stood open. Hermione could see that a large dragon had been painted on the wall of the room, and painted smoke curled from its nostrils.

He turned and began to run in the direction Lucius had disappeared, past the closed door of Scorpius' room. Hermione quickened her pace to keep up with the small boy. He reached an ornate set of double doors, one of which stood slightly ajar and froze when he heard voices coming out of the room. Hermione stopped beside him and recognized the voices of Narcissa and Lucius issuing from the opening in the door.

"Can't they do anything?" came the quiet whisper of Narcissa's voice. A slight catch in her voice betrayed that fact that she was, or had recently been, crying.

"The Healers give him maybe a week. Narcissa, I'm sorry. There's nothing to be done."

Narcissa sobbed audibly.

"I sh-should have stopped them. I should have b-been paying better attention. It's- it's all my fault," she choked out.

Beside her, Hermione saw Draco sink to his knees beside the door, tears silently leaking from his eyes.

"No. This is not your fault Narcissa. Or Draco's. The boys were just fighting as they've done many times before-" Lucius began.

"Then why did it happen?" Narcissa wailed, cutting him off.

Lucius' voice hardened and he spat out a single word. "Mudbloods."

Beside her, Draco, looked up, confused. Hermione inhaled sharply through her nose in sudden understanding.

"It is as the Dark Lord said, Narcissa. He told us that mudbloods came by their magic by theft. It explains Squibs. And didn't the Dark Lord say that if the process went badly, it could result in the loss of magical blood? Don't you see? They stole Scorpius' magic and have killed him in the process. He was right all along, and now it is too late."

Hermione felt a wave of nausea pass over her as she watched Draco's face. Realization dawned on him as if a light had suddenly illuminated his tear-streaked face. It passed in a moment, but it left something hard and ugly on his tiny face.

Around her, the walls began to dissolve, and Hermione pulled her head out of the Pensieve with a gasp.

She sank slowly to the floor, eyes wide.

_**8888888888888888888888**_

She found him back in Aurelia's, head bent over a large, dusty book that lay open on his lap. He didn't look up as she crossed the room and sat next to him.

Hermione waited patiently, listening to the soft tick-tock of the clock on the wall.

"I wanted it to be true," he finally said, looking up at her with tortured eyes.

"Wanted what to be true?" Hermione asked.

"About muggleborns, I mean. Once I got to Hogwarts and began to learn about magic, I knew it couldn't actually be true. But I needed it to be true so that it wouldn't be my fault. But it was. I killed my brother," he said in a quiet voice.

"Draco, it wasn't your fault-" she began.

"It was!" he exclaimed, his eyes flaring with anger.

Hermione waited a moment before asking him softly, "Would you mind telling me exactly what happened?"

Draco stared down at his desk, before beginning to speak in an expressionless voice.

"I was 5 years old. Scorpius was only a year younger than me. We were very close, but I was always jealous of him. He was…exceptionally powerful. His magic had shown up when he was only 3 and he had a way of controlling it that most children can't. He wasn't able to do spells, or anything, but he was able to manipulate objects. He could make flowers dance around the garden, or make stone skip across water, things like that."

"Mother and Father were so proud of him. Even though I was the oldest, and the Malfoy heir, I always felt that I was second in their eyes. Not that they ever treated me differently, or didn't love me as much. I could just see how they looked at him, planned for his exceptional future."

"We were inseparable. We fought, of course, but we were best mates. We liked all the same things. I loved dragons, so when I was sad, Scorpius would always make the snapdragons that grew in the gardens breathe puffs of pollen to make me laugh.

"The day that…that it happened…we were fighting. Over something silly, I don't even remember what. I stormed off, and when Scorpius came to apologize, I wouldn't forgive him. I told him that I never wanted him as a brother and I wished he was never born. He ran off into the gardens crying."

"They found him half an hour later when one of the house elves smelled smoke. Half of the gardens were in flames, and he was there, thrashing about, vomiting blood. I saw them carrying him into the house, even though Mother had told me to stay in my room."

"The Healers said there was nothing that could be done. His mind had been destroyed when he lost control of his magic. His ability to perform basic functions like breathing was deteriorating rapidly. They were able to sedate him, but the potions that they used to be sure he didn't harm himself didn't wear off before…before he passed."

"I never got to say goodbye to him," Draco finished, a solitary tear running down his face. He wiped it away roughly.

Hermione's heart broke. Without thinking, Hermione reached over to take his hand. After an agonizing moment when she thought he might pull away, she felt his fingers wrap around her own and squeeze.

They sat in silence, staring down at Aurelia's still form.

"I still don't think it was your fault Draco. I know it's easy to blame yourself, but you were 5. It was a fight any child might have had with their sibling. You aren't to blame," she said in the soothing voice that she usually reserved for her sickest patients.

"Thank you," he said, "You're a really good friend Hermione."

Hermione nodded at him, her mind turning over the word _friend_. It was true, she realized. They had become friends. And what's more, she thought, looking down at their entwined hands, she liked it.

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**NEXT TIME:**

"_So, what," Ron spluttered, "You're dating him now?"_

_Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes heavenward, looking to Harry and Ginny for support. They studiously ignored her, focusing on the pints in front of them._

**A/N: Sorry for the unreasonable delay in updates- I haven't had any free time to write for a while, but here it is, the next installment! It's a little heavy, but not to fear- this will be the only angsty chapter I plan on writing. Hope you enjoyed it- if you did (or didn't!) drop me a review and let me know!**

**-Aparecium88**


	7. Chapter Seven

_Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not claim ownership over any of the characters, or any part of the Harry Potter World created by J.K. Rowling._

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**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Ron slid Hermione a pint of butterbeer across the table top and sank into the chair beside her with a grin.

"Two sickles, Hermione," he announced, holding out his hand, "pay up."

She dug around in her purse and pulled out two silver coins, and handed them to him with narrowed eyes.

"Don't you still owe me 10 sickles from the last time we went out and you went on a bender and lost your wallet?" she said.

Ron reddened slightly, and took a big gulp of his drink, wisely refraining from an answer.

Hermione looked over at Harry, who shrugged, and wrapped an arm around Ginny, pulling her closer.

"So," said Ginny, "Did everyone get their invites to Mandy's party in the post this morning?"

Harry and Ron groaned, and Hermione grinned wickedly.

"I can't believe she's having another Valentine's Day celebration this year," Ron groaned, "I've only just got Romilda Vane to stop owling me."

Everyone snickered, remembering the previous year, when Ron had accidently eaten some of the love-potioned chocolates that Mandy had set aside to give out to happy couples at the end of the night. Although the potion in the chocolate was meant to act as a mild aphrodisiac that wore off after a few hours, Ron had consumed enough of them to cause him to strut around the party alternating between bragging about his prowess, and begging every woman at the party to "show him a little love."

Unfortunately for Ron, Romilda Vane had been more than happy to oblige.

Even more unfortunately, she seemed to mistake Ron's potion-induced passion for the real thing, and had persisted in calling Ron her boyfriend to anyone who would listen and sending him adoring letters for many months.

Hermione patted Ron's hand and made a sarcastically pitying face at him.

"Don't worry '_Wonny_,' I made sure that Mandy left Romilda off the guest list this year. You're safe from a third bout of l'amour for Ms. Vane."

"Just don't eat anything without asking Mandy what it is first," Harry said with a chuckle.

"Anyways," Ginny said, taking a gulp of her cider, "Obviously Harry and I are going together. What about you lot? Who are you taking?"

Ron shrugged, "I'll meet up with Katie there, I guess."

Katie Bell, who worked at the shop with Ron, had been his date on several occasions over the last few months, although he insisted that it was nothing serious.

Nodding, Ginny turned to Hermione and asked, "What about you?"

Hermione tilted her head to one side and pursed her lips, "I'm not sure. Probably Draco, since you lot are all paired off."

An awkward silence fell over the table. While Hermione had brought Draco along to a couple of outings in the past month, and had gotten Ron to grudgingly admit that he was a decent chap, she hadn't been able to make the two of them get on. Harry seemed to have made peace with the addition to their circle of friends, and refused to side with either Ron or Hermione on the issue.

In contrast, Mandy and Ginny had warmed up to Draco in a way that most definitely had very little to do with his "new" personality, and much more with the way his eyes crinkled up when he smiled. This, of course, only added to Ron's mistrust of him.

Hermione stared down into her butterbeer, and Ginny and Harry exchanged glances as Ron's mouth began to move in silent outrage.

Suddenly, Ron found his voice.

"So, what," Ron spluttered, "You're dating him now?"

Hermione sighed looking to Harry and Ginny for support. They studiously ignored her, focusing on the pints in front of them.

"Honestly, Ron," she said, rolling her eyes heavenward, "I've told you a thousand times that we are just friends. Besides, who else could I go with? You already said you're taking Katie, and I'm not about to take Cormac up on his _charming_ standing offer."

Ginny giggled, remembering the look on Hermione's face when she had received an owl from Cormac McLadden shortly after she and Ron had split, telling her that he was glad she had come to her senses, and that he would wait for her to go through a "suitable mourning period," but that his bed was waiting.

"You could go alone," Ron insisted stubbornly.

Ginny cut in, "That is a terrible idea, and you know it. She'd be running from a bunch of desperate blokes all evening."

"She's right," Harry agreed, "I don't see what the big deal is, mate."

Ron drained his glass with a large gulp.

"Fine," he said, setting his glass down heavily, "But I still think it's bollocks."

Hermione glowered at him. She had long since stopped commenting on Ron's disapproval of anything that she did having to do with the opposite sex, and had written off changing his ways as futile, but it didn't mean that she couldn't get aggravated by his behavior.

Seeing the dark look on Hermione's face, Harry stood up and announced, "I've got the next round. What's everyone having?"

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"How did it go?"

Hermione started, and looked up from the parchment that she had been pouring over. She had just completed an exam in for her Specialist training, and had immediately rushed back to her office and buried herself in her well-thumbed over notes. Draco took in her frazzled expression and mussed hair and smirked.

"Draco! You scared me! I was just-" she started

"-looking over your notes to see if you got everything right. Which, of course, you did." he finished.

Hermione colored, and had the grace to look sheepish, "Well, I think I passed at least."

"Of course you did," he said, walking over to perch on the edge of her desk, "you're Hermione Granger."

She rolled her eyes and swatted at him good naturedly.

"Why are you still here?" she asked, pushing the stack of parchment away.

"Mandy asked me to mix up a potion for her patient so that she could run home and set up for the party," he said with a shrug.

Draco's deft hand with a cauldron had made him a go-to in the Children's Ward when it came to mixing up potions that weren't always kept in stock. This afternoon, a little boy had been brought in by his nearly hysterical mother, tied to a string and floating like a balloon.

It turned out that the boy had eaten 23 Fizzing Whizbee Hearts (a treat themed for the Valentine's Holiday, printed with the phrase 'You make my heart soar!'), and hadn't come down from his Whizbee-induced levitation for 24 hours. Mandy had been puzzling all day over how to get the child's feet back on the ground.

"What did you end up using?" Hermione asked.

"Um, I had to make something up. It's similar to a Deflating Drought but I used orange pips instead of pomegranate seeds, and had to change the timing a little. It seems to be working," he answered, picking at his nails.

"Interesting," said Hermione, "I never would have thought of that. You've really got a knack for potions, you know."

"Just one of my many talents, madam," said Draco, puffing out his chest comically.

Hermione laughed, and stood up, stretching her back.

"You about ready to head over to Mandy's flat?" she asked.

Draco nodded at her, sliding off her desk, and for a moment Hermione was struck by his height and the way that he…_smelled_? A subtly spicy scent washed over her in the small rush of air that he had displaced jumping down from his desk, setting her pulse racing. She froze and looked up at him, worried that he could hear her heart thudding, and he grinned down at her.

"Come on, Granger, let's get out of here. I've got a bottle of Ogden's in my locker, and I'm looking forward to watching Weasley make an arse out of himself," he said gleefully.

Hermione shook herself mentally, and followed Draco out of the door.

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After a quick stop in the changing rooms to put on different robes- unlike Hermione, Mandy lived in Wizarding London- Draco and Hermione exited St. Mungo's, joined hands, and disappeared with a loud crack.

A moment later, they appeared at the apparition point for Mandy's building, a small vestibule at the bottom of the stairs. Mandy lived in an aging three-flat not far from Diagon Alley, on the third floor. She flung open the door at Hermione's knock, looking a bit overwhelmed.

"Great! You're here. Perfect timing. I've got food and drink out already, but do you mind helping me choose music? And maybe put up the decorations?"

Hermione, gripping to wall next to the door none-too-lightly while she caught her breath from the climb up the stairs, glared wordlessly at Mandy.

"Honestly, Hermione, if you would get a bit of exercise once in a while, the stairs would be no big deal," Mandy said with a grin at Draco.

Hermione huffed and shoved past Mandy, sinking onto the couch in Mandy's living room. Mandy was flatmates with Lisa Turpin, and their flat boasted a spacious living area, separate dining nook, and a decently sized kitchen.

Lisa was currently occupying a comfy chair across from Hermione, curled up with the latest issue of Witch Weekly. She looked up when Hermione threw herself on the couch, smiled in greeting, and then buried herself in her magazine again.

Draco and Mandy walked into the living room, and over to the Wireless.

"What do you think, Hermione?" Mandy asked, "Weird Sisters or Spellbound?"

Draco groaned, "Anything but Spellbound. Please, anything but that."

Hermione grinned wickedly, "Alright, so then…how about Celestina Warbeck?"

If looks could kill, Hermione would have been a dead witch. As it was, however, Draco had not yet succeeded in finding out how basilisks worked their eye-dagger magic, and was forced to cover his ears as a giggling Mandy tapped the Wireless and the opening strains of a Celestina Warbeck ballad filled the room.

"That is just awful," said Lisa, putting down her magazine and crossing over the Mandy. She tapped the Wireless again, and the Weird Sisters began to play. Someone knocked on the door and Mandy dashed away to greet her arriving guests.

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Several hours later found Hermione perched on the couch, dizzily nursing the last of a butterbeer. She watched Ron and Katie lurching about in a drunken approximation of dancing while concentrating very carefully on keeping the floor and ceiling in the correct orientation.

The table that had been groaning under the weight of the food and drink for the party had been severely depleted, and most of the guests had paired off and left for the evening. Mandy had disappeared with Seamus Finnegan, and Harry and Ginny were sitting together in the chair that Lisa had been occupying earlier that evening giggling together.

Draco sank down onto the couch beside her, clutching a near empty bottle of Ogden's. He offered her the bottle, and she shook her head carefully.

"I think I'm done for the night," she said, as she flopped her very heavy head onto the back of the couch and smiled up at Draco.

Draco shrugged, and drained the bottle before sinking into the couch cushions beside her.

"I hope you didn't drink that all yourself," Hermione admonished playfully.

" 'Course not," he replied, slurring slightly, "I let Weasley have a sip before, didn't I?"

His head slumped forward slightly, and he dragged it upright with great effort.

Hermione peered at Draco in the dim light of the apartment. He had, indeed, in a show of good will, allowed Ron to take a tiny sip of the expensive drink. He blinked blearily at her and grinned before his head nodded forward again, this time staying down.

Hermione sighed, dumped the last of her butterbeer in the the mostly dead plant beside the sofa, and tapped her bottle with her wand.

"_Aguamenti_," she said, and water poured from her wand into the bottle, filling it quickly.

She shook Draco gently and handed him the bottle.

"Drink this," she said, helping him to left the water to his mouth.

Draco obediently drained the bottle, and handed it back to her.

"Thanks," he said, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

Hermione nodded as she filled the bottle again, and handed it back to him. He grimaced and clumsily swatted it away.

"No more," he grunted at her.

Hermione smiled patiently and handed him it again.

"Just finish this up and we'll get out of here, okay?" she said with a wheedling smile.

Glaring like a petulant child, he accepted the bottle from her and began to sip at it. Hermione looked at him, shirt stained with some sort of spill, and hair mussed and falling into his eyes. Without thinking about it, she reached over and smoothed his hair back from his face. She was surprised to find that it was fine and soft like down, and smoothed it back with another stroke, reveling in the silky texture beneath her fingertips. Draco swallowed a large gulp of water and sighed contentedly.

Hermione felt eyes on the back of her neck and looked over to see Ginny and Harry looking at her with eyebrows raised. She shrugged and rolled her eyes at them, dropped her hand, and motioned that she was going to be leaving. Glancing over to where Ron and Katie were dancing, her eyes widened as she realized that the two were now pressed up against the wireless, snogging.

She looked back at Harry and Ginny, who pulled faces at her as if to say "Who knows?"

Something hard and cool knocked against her hand, and she looked down to see Draco grinning triumphantly at her whilst shoving the once again empty bottle towards her.

"Can we leave now?" he asked, standing unsteadily.

Hermione found her way onto her feet and, leaning against each other for support, the two shuffled their way out of the apartment.

Downstairs at the apparition point, Hermione paused.

"Erm, I don't think either of us is fit to apparate," she said, "Don't you live around here? If you want to head home, I'll just walk out to Muggle London and grab a cab."

Draco roused himself, blinking hard before stealing a glance at his watch.

"Hermione, it's 3:00 in the morning. I'm not letting you wander around by yourself looking for a cab. I'll come with you, and when I sober up a bit I'll apparate home."

Hermione thought for a moment, and then shrugged.

"Thanks Draco. You really don't have to though."

He rolled his eyes at her and opened the door to Mandy's building. "Come on, Granger."

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Hermione turned on the lights in her apartment with a flick of her wand, tossed her bag on the floor beside the door, and walked into the kitchen.

Draco followed, taking a curious look around her small apartment.

"Nice flat," he said to her as she walked out of the kitchen and handed him a glass of water.

"Thanks," she replied, "To continue our conversation from the cab, you're more than welcome to stay over if you'd like. According to Harry and Ron, the couch is quite comfortable, and I'd rather you stay here than accidently splice yourself."

Draco walked over to the couch and sat down, testing it out.

"You know," he said, "I think I might. Remind me to take it easy on the Ogden's next time, okay?"

"Your wish, my command," Hermione said with a mocking bow, "I'm going to go wash up- there are some blankets in the basket there, so make yourself at home."

Some minutes later, Hermione emerged from the bathroom, teeth brushed and face clean. She poked her head into the living room to check on Draco, who was standing and looking at the photographs that stood over her fireplace. She noticed that his hair had once again fallen into his eyes.

She cleared her throat lightly, and he turned and walked over to her.

"Do you need anything?" she asked, suddenly feeling awkward and very aware that there was a man standing too close to her and that she was still quite drunk. She could smell the faint scent of stale alcohol on his breath.

He smiled at her and shook his head, looking a little embarrassed "No, I think I'm sorted. Thanks a lot, Hermione. Sorry for being such a pain in the arse earlier. I really appreciate you, erm, taking care of me earlier."

He stepped forward then, and embraced her. Hermione froze, and then realized how pleasant it felt to have his arms around her. She relaxed, and then timidly wrapped her arms around his waist. His chest and arms felt strong, and his chin rested gently on the top of her head. She felt safe and happy.

After a moment, she pulled away, and looked up at him.

Something intense and new in his eyes unnerved her, and she backed away, stammering, "Well, I, uh, better get to bed. So, um, goodnight."

She fled to her room and shut the door, her heart pounding. She climbed into bed, and turned out the lights and tried to think calm thoughts.

She lay there, staring at the ceiling in the glow of the streetlight that tricked in from her window, for a long while. She lay awake even after the faint sound of snoring began to issue from the living room. Finally, as the gray fingers of dawn began to steal across the ceiling, Hermione slept. She dreamed of Draco's eyes.

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**NEXT TIME:**

_Hermione perched on the edge of the seat, taking in the concerned look on Healer Bartley's face._

"_Healer Granger, I'm afraid we have some bad news about your patient, Aurelia King."_

**A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed, or added this story (or me!) to their favorites. I'm letting Draco and Hermione write their own relationship at this point, but I have a feeling things are starting to move along. Leave me a review, and let me know what you think **

**-Aparecium88**


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